17 June 2026, Freewriters Community Daily Writing Prompt Day 3137: so healthy

Six-year-old Grayson Ludlow was the quietest of the Ludlow grandchildren …

“But that boy's mind is LOUD,” Mrs. Melissa Trent said as the little boy got over by his big cousin, police captain Ironwood Hamilton.

“Cousin Ironwood,” he said, “I know what y'all are doing with the chainsaws and big rolling machines right now, but, that ain't it, because the chest is wood and the fungus among us have grown into it because they are hungry and if your workers keep cutting like that it's gonna fall apart and everything in it is going everywhere on the ground.”

Capt. Hamilton knelt down so he could see the world from Grayson's perspective …

“Now, see, that man's mind is so healthy and humble,” Mrs. Trent said. “We all need to get there as adults, and remember that our children know things too.”

“All stop!” Capt. Hamilton said a few moments later. “We've got a side of that thing that is only mushroom roots and it is coming part – put the stump down, and easy like – we're going to have to cut it apart from the chest manually. Thank you, Cousin Grayson – good save!”

“Just doing half my job,” Grayson said. “We gotta build stuff, but we also gotta protect the stuff that's already built. I just need you to know that if there are prehistoric Legos in there, I call dibs.”

“Understood,” Capt. Hamilton said, with a twinkle in his gray eyes to match the youthful light in Grayson's eyes of the same color.

“Oh, tell Cousins Orton and Edward I said hi and that I have their blueprint ready,” Grayson said, “but I'm also sending back a note: that ain't what they want either, because even it works, you're just going to shut it down, because Tinyville is too small for you to ride around in a police rocket. Papa said by the time you got it good and going, you'd already be in Pittsylvania County because rockets can move five miles per second.”

“Yep, that's about right,” Capt. Hamilton said, “but thank you, on behalf of your Hamilton cousins, for finishing the blueprint like you said you would, all the same.”

“Of course,” Grayson said. “A man gotta build his reputation, and especially when he is six, all he has is his word.”

“Right, cousin,” Capt. Hamilton said. “That's a good thought. I'll save you a stamp, Grayson, and be glad to take your blueprints to your cousin.”

“See, that's why God lets a man like that have eleven children,” Sgt. Vincent Trent said to Mrs. Trent, “and how He knew to only give us five, because SHEESH!”

“Orton and Edward Hamilton combined with our Milton and their other cousin George Ludlow … we may still have to move out of Tinyville, though!” Mrs. Trent said with a laugh.

“Maybe not,” Sgt. Trent said, “because we see the gray-eyed ones are running everything!”

“The big Hamilton cousin keeping the town together and the little Ludlow cousin making sure he stays here by not letting him get flown clear into Pittsylvania County!” Mrs. Trent said.

“And Capt. Hamilton knows what Grayson does not, yet,” Sgt. Trent said with a smile as the little Ludlow boy went running back up the street to his home. “100 years ago or so, Colonel I.C. Hamilton, who renovated the Veteran's Lodge, had a favorite civilian tag-a-long: the boy Edwin Ludlow. Their great-grandsons, now related because both Edwin Ludlow and one of the colonel's sons married Lees, are just rhyming with the history.”

“Aw,” Mrs. Trent said. “Some good history, for once!”

“Yes, because chances are, that chest is going to balance things out today with the bad,” Sgt. Trent said. “Capt. Hamilton's maps and the Jubilee-of-the-mountain maps of things that happened when the old order fell or was clung to for too long match.”

“I'm rooting for the trunk to contain prehistoric Legos,” Mrs. Trent said.

“I just need to let Milton know that Grayson has already called dibs on those,” Sgt. Trent said, with a laugh.